


And I Turn To Face the Sun

by WAWritings



Series: A Long and Bitter Road [2]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Agent York is a sweet but clueless buffoon, Background Wash/Maine, Background Wash/Tucker - Freeform, Bipolar and anxiety ridden Carolina, Carolina is tiny and angry and ready to fight, F/M, The Director was a really shit father, The Director was also really fucked up for abandoning his daughter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 07:24:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11916003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WAWritings/pseuds/WAWritings
Summary: Every year of Carolina's life was misery since Allison Church died. Sometimes things would get better...most of the time they were worse. But along the road to meeting the Reds and Blues, she was so many things. A daughter, a student, a soldier, a leader, a lover, a victim.A quick snapshot of the years leading up to Carolina meeting the family she always deserved.





	And I Turn To Face the Sun

"We throw tantrums like parties  
We're not happy 'til everyone knows we're sick  
And that's just how we like it  
We've hurt bad enough, right, we've earned it

Don't tell the others but it's all getting old  
I mean how many more times must our stories be told?  
And being lonely's only fun in a group  
It sort of loses it's charm when it's true"

 

"Get Well", Icon For Hire

Sixteen

_I was suffering and you left me to rot. All I needed was my father and you weren’t there. You were never there. Not when it counted._

            It had been ten years and the wound still hadn’t healed. And her father was nowhere to be found. Her mother was dead and he just slipped away. Their large home in North Carolina sat empty, Charlotte’s lone footsteps sounded like thunder through the halls. Everything stopped the day Allison Church didn’t come home. That day was forever shrouded in darkness. It had been a Tuesday and Charlotte had been at recess when the principal had pulled her from the class. Expecting to find her mother standing in the office, she had bounded there at full speed. Instead she had found her father with his head in his hands. The image never faded. He had been wearing a grey suit, a pale blue shirt, and black dress shoes; the ID tag he wore for work was still hanging around his neck. Charlotte had been wearing a teal plaid dress, her hair had been in two braids, and her socks had alligators on them. Every detail was burned into her mind. It had been painful. The way her father explained it was through tears of sadness. That day a part of him died alongside his wife. Because there was no Leonard without Allison. Then Dr. Leonard Church had gone to work one day and hadn’t been back in over ten years. Maybe he would call but mostly it was just Charlotte and her aunt. Still Charlotte Church went to school; she got straight A’s. Charlotte Church went to martial arts and ballet practice; she was better than ever. But there was a shadow looming over an empty home. There were no sounds of laughter. There was no piano music drifting from her father’s study. There were no bedtime stories or family dinners. It was just quiet and Carolina was alone. Painfully so.

            The medication helped. Even if it was mind numbing. Therapists tossed around words like anxiety and bipolar and they weren’t wrong. The highs were amazing and there would be times when Charlotte could forget everything; they however did not exceed the agony of the lows. Sometimes getting up to wash her hair felt like it might be the tipping point. The worst bit was that no one noticed. No one noticed that their star pupil was withdrawing from social events. No one noticed that sometimes the teenage girl with green eyes would arrive ten minutes late to class rimmed in red. No one noticed anything. So Charlotte got angry. More angry than she had ever been before. Suddenly there was a switch flipped. One of the dangerous type. Everything and anyone became a punching bag. It felt good to take all those emotions and channel it into becoming the best. And Charlotte was.

            The school bathroom was poorly lit and the air smelled like cheap perfume. Charlotte stood in front of the sink touching up the mascara that had run from crying. Freckles and bitter green eyes were all she could see. Smiling didn’t really happen often and neither did laughing. Those things were reserved for the normal teenagers. Charlotte was not a normal teenager; a perfect attendance record and straight A’s for over two years. A black belt in not one, not two, but three different forms of martial arts. Not many students were also born with an IQ in the high one hundreds. Everything about Charlotte Church made her different than kids her age. That was fine. Packing up and hefting her backpack over her shoulder, Charlotte went back to class. The teacher didn’t even comment on her late arrival. The other students noticed and rolled their eyes.

            “What the hell is wrong with her?” Ariel Stevens whispered two rows behind her. Charlotte let out a huff and clenched her fists. There was the soft sound of someone being elbowed in the stomach.

            “Cut it out Ariel,” A boy’s voice said a little bit louder than need be, “My dad works with hers and apparently her home life is utter shit. Her mom is dead and her dad doesn’t come home. Leave her be,” And that was the first kind thing anyone had said about her in years. Charlotte didn’t mind being different than kids her age but sometimes it was just nice to be noticed.

Seventeen

_I want to feel something. But you, you are right for me. You’re too good. And I am just the worst at all of this._

            A boy with doe eyes and a soft laugh filled the void. When his hand ran up Charlotte’s leg and her body arched towards him, nothing seemed too awful. When he kissed her it felt like there was nothing else but him. The sex was good…fantastic even. But it was empty. And as that boy with the soft eyes and laugh touched her, there was nothing. Nothing but an easily broken promises and a dream. A dream that someday normalcy might find its way into her life. So for every bit of herself that boy managed to take away, Charlotte took something for herself.  Whether it was just a moment of control or information, or a leg up it became something to focus on. It became a goal. That boy meant nothing but the services he provided were invaluable. It was a break from reality. It was a dirty secret but it was something that was just hers. Maybe it was the only thing she had control over. In another reality maybe she would fall in love, get married, and have a few kids. But sadly the life she had wasn’t framed that way. There was no easy answer to feeling better so Charlotte made do.

            One, two kick. Block with right arm and counter attack with the left. The movements of a fight were simple. It was the endurance that set Charlotte above the rest. It was the brutality with which she wielded her body. For every punch she took, Charlotte hit back twice as hard. People noticed her when she fought, it was her gift. The military noticed and soon they had her slotted for recruitment. And that is when Dr. Leonard Church waltzed back into her life. He wasn’t dad anymore, he was the Director. The man was cold, unforgiving and desperate to keep his daughter out of the military. Charlotte really couldn’t bring herself to care. It was spiteful and maybe a little petty but it felt right. Fighting was one of the few things she was good at. It was something that even he couldn’t take away from her.

            The recruitment officer took a look at her and Charlotte could see the wheels turning in his head. It was easy to tell what he was thinking as she stood there in a sundress and cowgirl boots. What could a petite little girl do, even if the reports said she was fantastic.

            “Ms. Church, why do you want to join the UNSC?” The officer asked her. Charlotte sat down in the chair that had been provided to her.

            “I can tell you that I want to join to protect people, but that’s not really true. I want to join because I am good at what I do. My mother had me in combat training before I was enrolled in school. My father had me learn to shoot and maintain a gun since the age of nine even if he wasn’t around to teach me; doesn’t matter, he is a terrible shot anyways. I want to join because I know that I can make a difference.” Charlotte shifted in her chair and stared the man down, not giving an inch of wiggle room. For a man twice her age, the recruitment officer looked like he would rather be anywhere else.

Eighteen

_Get out of my way. If you stand between me and my goal, I will erase you from the record._

            They laughed when they saw her standing in line at basic training. Charlotte knew what she looked like. Tiny, petite, harmless. The boys, the other recruits snickered under their breath at her. No one expected her to be the best. After day one when everyone was still trying to catch their breath, she was still standing. As a matter of fact she stood standing over them and cast a shadow like a reaper ready to take their souls to hell. After that no one laughed. During combat training Charlotte never pulled punches; the drill instructor only stopped her once. One of the other recruits had gotten mouthy and said there was no possible way for a girl to be as strong as her; he had arrived in the infirmary with a black eye, a broken arm, and six cracked ribs. Because despite being the best, she was still a girl; for every test the boys in her unit passed, Carolina had to pass two. But For the first time ever she felt like there was somewhere she belonged. Charlotte took to military life like a fish to water. Academically she was at the top of their tests. Physically she set the bar for the rest of the recruits. No one could keep up. Immediately she was selected for special operations. The old men scrutinized everything she did as if trying to figure out how a woman was out preforming their top agents. Some of them even tried to have her removed from basic, though she suspected her father might have something to do with that. Sometimes they would whisper the name Allison Church’s name; Charlotte was nothing like her mother except in temperament. And she clawed her way to the top and those in charge found out the hard way that there was nothing they could do but hold on and watch. The only thing that was acceptable to Charlotte Church was the top and she would sacrifice her body and sanity it meant accomplishing that.

            Combat was hell. It was a bloody and bitter experience. No one had to explain it though. Charlotte knew the reality of war. Both of her parents built their careers on conflict. It was a family affair. No one doubted that she could survive anymore. They learned that Charlotte Church was a leader, a trail blazer. They learned that there was no challenge she would not meet with anything other than righteous fury. But it was a lonely existence. No one wanted to be close to a little girl who wouldn’t accept anything. So Charlotte progressed quickly, taking names and leaving no survivors. That was fine. It wasn’t like she needed anyone anyways. Towards the end of her final tour, she was shot in the abdomen, a through and through. As blood gushed from the wound, she still managed to carry three injured members of her team with her to safety. In the end she nearly died. The cabin of the rescue pelican was painted red with blood. In the end they gave her a medal. Charlotte had stood in front of the cameras, chin tilted up. The president had given the award and thanked her for her service. After the ceremony Charlotte went back to her quarters on base and cried for the first time in years, the Allison Church Medal of Bravery still pinned to her dress.

Twenty-one

_I can’t forget that day. I can’t forget you. I have tried time and time again_

            Promotions came and went and so did the conflict. It was stagnant. Boring even. Charlotte Church was the fastest promoted officer of all time. Years passed and Charlotte was given her own team of talented individuals. It was tough working with someone like her. Sometimes she pushed a little too much. Maybe she raised her voice a bit too much. But the thing that was indisputable was the loyalty she showed the men and women in her care. No one doubted where they stood in Charlotte Church’s eyes. Sometimes there would be days when she would slip away. The pill bottles that were normally tucked away were left sitting in their communal bathroom. It was hard but if you were looking, she would be on the roof of the officers’ barracks smoking a cigarette. The gentle sound of piano music playing in the distance. There was a sadness she carried around that everyone could see but no one understood. Even though she was a hardass, the team loved their leader. Charlotte adored them.

            The letter came on a Tuesday. An offer to Charlotte from Project Freelancer. They were recruiting for talented fighters. The signature on the paper made Charlotte’s blood run cold. Dr. Leonard Church was printed in her father’s blocky slanted handwriting at the bottom of the page. For the first time in years, she didn’t know what to do. It felt like accepting the offer made all of the work she had done to escape him pointless. At the same time Charlotte missed her father, even if he had left. The reality that her active duty status would soon be coming to an end was also closing in. So the following night she sat down at her desk and set up her laptop. Taking a deep breath she pushed the call button the video chat option. The Director, Dr. Church, hadn’t aged much. Just a little grey at his temples. There were the same lines around his eyes that he had when she was younger. What had changed was that he was quiet. Dr. Church was infamous for being a raging asshole with a foul mouth, now he was poised. When he answered there was a surprisingly soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

            “Hey dad,” Charlotte smiled a little sad, “How have you been?” it seemed silly to ask. Director Church chuckled and his eyes searched her face.

            “I’m fine. How are you little sunflower? You seem to have gotten quite a bit bigger than the last time I saw you.” The old nickname drove a knife into her heart. Talking to him felt like someone was tearing open the scars around her heart and lungs. The sound of his voice sent flashes of happier memories bouncing around her skull.

            “Much the same, a few new scars here and there.” She replied and paused for a moment, “Your offer…my answer is yes. My tour of duty ends in a few months, and then I’m all yours.”

Twenty-two

_I almost forgot what it feels like to have someone close to me. I almost forgot the feeling of being wanted._

            One last night of freedom before she sold her life to Project Freelancer. Charlotte strolled into a club, scantily dressed. The loud music hummed in her bones and the smell of sweat, smoke, and sex filled the air. It was moments like this that made life worth it. The moments where everything was vibrant and humming. It was things like sex and fighting that made things interesting. People were shitty, but so very interesting. Taking a seat at the bar, Charlotte raised her hand to get the bartenders attention.

            “Shot of tequila, top shelf.” Charlotte ran a hand over the smooth stone countertop. The shot was deposited in front of her and she downed it quickly. The smooth burn of the liquor was refreshing. It had been so long since she had just sat down to have a drink.

            “You celebrating something?” The man next to her asked, flicking the lighter in his hand. Charlotte turned and offered him a half smile. Pointing to her dog tags that were hanging  outside her shirt, he continued. “Wouldn’t peg you for the military type.” Tucking away the tags, Charlotte cocked her head to the side.

            “Not many do,” She replied, “And I’m not celebrating, just living a little. I am afraid that free time will be hard to come by soon,” Charlotte nodded in thanks when the bartender brought her another shot.

            “Shipping out?” The man asked and leaned back in the bar stool he was sat upon. It was interesting how attentive the man was, intelligent whilst coming off flippant.

            “Indeed I am,” He was a soldier or a mercenary. The personality made it hard to tell.

            “What do you know, me too. You know where you’re headed?” Carolina snorted and took the shot in front of her.

            “Classified, sorry.” The man shrugged and offered her his hand.

            “Adrian Hanson,” He spoke confidently as she clasped his palm.

            “Charlotte Church,” She answered in kind. The two of them sat together drinking and laughing. They spoke of silly things. Talked about their childhoods and their squads. And for a little while Charlotte forgot that the next morning she was going to be shipped off to an unknown place to be with a man she once called dad.

            The night was starting to get into full swing when Adrian took her hand and stood up. Charlotte followed him without question to the dance floor. The music was sensual and thrummed with sexual energy. The two of them moved their bodies together. This close she could feel the thrum of his own heartbeat. A hand slid from her waist to Charlotte’s hips and her lips twitched into a smile.

            “Careful where you put your hands,” She warned and she could feel Adrian’s smile against the back of her neck. The warmth of his breath tickled the sensitive skin there.

            “Live a little Ms. Church.” He nipped the back of her neck. “Who knows what tomorrow will bring.” Saying nothing more he slid his right hand down her thigh and yanked her closer with the laugh. That night Charlotte felt more alive than she had in years.

            The ship was readied and Charlotte stood alone. The whir of the engine started and her feet carried her up to platform. Heart heavy, she took a deep breath.

            “Well this is awkward,” A voice said from behind her on the docking platform. Charlotte turned and saw Adrian standing there, duffle bag in hand. A smile stretched across her face before she could reign in  the reaction. It was so different from the previous night. Both of them were in their military fatigues; both were a little hungover and a little exhausted. Both had their service pistols holstered at their waists.

            “Project Freelancer huh,” Charlotte asked and waited for Adrian to catch up. “What’s your designation?” Adrian smirked and the two of them entered the cabin.

            “Special Agent New York, pleasure to meet you.” Charlotte bumped his shoulder with her own.

            “Agent North Carolina,” Charlotte said as she secured her bag, “How about we just go with Carolina. The North part is a bit of a mouthful,” There was something sweet and innocent tickling at the pit of her stomach. They had parted the previous night carrying each other’s scent and more than a little heated. The memory of his head ducking between her thighs was still fresh and it brought a flush to her cheeks.

            “Then I guess you can call me York,”

Twenty-four

_I won’t let you take this from him like you did me. Because I have been disappointed and let down enough times to expect it. I can defend myself. But him, you’ll never have power over him._

            They sent Carolina a baby faced nineteen year old young man with the designation of Washington. There was something about him that is all too familiar. It was hard to tell if it was the sad eyes or the way he danced around other agents that was heartbreaking. It became unbearable to watch, so Carolina forced him to become friends with the people around him. Surprisingly it worked. Suddenly shy baby Agent Washington had Maine talking to him, even if their words were few and far between; there was also something else there that was unexpected, something gentle and sweet. Connie sought Wash out like a moth to a flame. And Carolina found herself drawn to him too. When he sat in the bathroom running his fingers through her hair, wrangling the tangled mess into braid it reminded her of her mother. Agent Washington was shy, maybe even a little bit broken, but he was everything good too. Sure he wasn’t the best hand to hand fighter but give that boy a rifle or a knife and he would put most of the agents to shame. Not to mention that his knowledge of weapons and machinery made him a walking encyclopedia. Carolina instantly liked him and shielded him from the worst of the Project.

            “I don’t have to worry about Wash stealing my girl do I?” York asked one night as they lay in bed. The warmth of his body was a comforting presence beside her.

            “No,” Carolina said with a smile, “Wash is more of the little brother I wish that I’d had when I was younger,” She explained and caressed York’s cheek lovingly. The man closed his eyes and smiled. Two and a half years together and things were better than ever.

            “Good to know,” York stated, “I’d hate to beat the kid down for making the moves on you.” Carolina snorted and kissed the corner of his mouth. York really was stupid sometimes. Even before Wash had told her that he was gay Carolina had her suspicions. The way he watched Maine had been the biggest clue. It was interesting watching someone so guarded fall in love with a man who expressed his emotions as well as a brick wall. The tiptoed around one another but it was pretty obvious. Carolina watched on and hoped that despite everything going on that the two of them would get their happy ending. Out of anyone at the project Wash deserved the best. Because despite everything his morality was unshaken.

            “Well I think that Agent Maine might have an issue with that considering the two of them have been together for about six months now. York’s eyes shot open and Carolina snickered.

            “Baby you know you can’t joke like that. South already made that joke and Maine nearly put her head through a wall,” He told her. Wrinkling her nose, she snuggled deeper into their nest of blankets and sighed.

            “I’m not joking,” She informed him completely deadpan. For a man who took little seriously, York treated everyone the same regardless of who they loved or what they looked like. So letting him know was really just to shut him up about the whole thing.

            “Well I’ll be damned,”

            The Director stood in front of her and told her that the relationship between her and York needed to be kept quiet or it had to end. In no uncertain means were they to move into the same quarters. They were not tell people they were together. They were not to express open affection.  In that moment something died inside her heart again. The engagement ring around her finger felt like its own noose. Relationships between agents weren’t forbidden, just slightly frowned upon. But Carolina was the best which meant she was to set an example. They had to remain professional at all times. Quite honestly Carolina and York never tried to hide their relationship. Everyone knew and no one cared. South occasionally gave them shit and North occasionally gave her a verbal beat down for her efforts. No one on the team cared. The Director however did, and Carolina looked him in the eyes in the entire time he lectured. Carolina had stared him down and quietly told him that her mom wouldn’t have cared. The Director hadn’t had much to say after that.

            That night she hadn’t gone to York. Instead she had knocked on Wash’s door, Maine answered. One look at her and the big guy gently patted her on the head. Carolina wiped her eyes and offered him a sad smile.

            “He’s inside,” Maine said quietly, his deep voice rumbling through his chest. Stepping inside Carolina heard Maine close the door and Wash looked up. His soft eyes studying her.

            “Will you be joining us tonight?” He asked and lifted the covers for her to slide in. The bed smelled like the two of them, an odd mix of cloves and menthol. Carolina leaned against Wash’s shoulder and Maine took a seat at the foot of their bed. They had been roommates since Wash had arrived and neither of them felt the need to change that arrangement. Their beds had been moved and pushed together, creating a space big enough for the two of them, and occasionally Carolina.

            “If I won’t be in the way,” She answered and Maine gripped her thigh, massaging the sore muscles of her bad leg.

            “Of course you’re welcome here,” Wash answered and texted something out on his phone presumably to York, “Can ask why?” Carolina paused for a moment but decided to answer since her conversation with the Director also concerned them.

            “I’m engaged,” She told them and Wash made a squawking noise that resembled a troubled chicken. Maine snorted and ran his hands over her calf supportively.

            “Charlotte congratulations!” Wash exclaimed and that was why she loved him. Under all that damage there was just a warm hearted kid. That kid was also Carolina’s family, possibly her only friend aside from Maine.

            “The Director told me no,” Not many people knew Carolina’s relation to the Director but Wash did, “So I am going to have to explain to York that the wedding is going to have to wait until we no longer apart of the project.”  Wash smiled at her, that genuinely heartbreaking smile. God did she hope that the world they existed in never broke him.

            “Well for what it’s worth, I’m happy for you.”

Twenty-six

_I am angry and it is your fault. You’re perfect and I’m just me._

            They gave her the designation Texas. That was her mother’s state. That was her mother’s nickname. And the Director just gave it to her.  The thing was Agent Texas was good. For every six punches Carolina would consider using to take down an opponent, Tex would do it in two. Not to mention that the woman was stronger and more intelligent than Carolina in every conceivable way. The missions weren’t going the way as intended anymore. People were getting hurt. York lost an eye and was pulling away. Carolina had been going to bed alone for weeks now. North and South were fighting worse than ever, not just petty bickering. Maine had been shot in the throat and could no longer speak. And Connie, CT, had betrayed them. Carolina couldn’t decide what hurt the worst. Maybe it was the way her father looked at her. Every night after Carolina brushed her hair and teeth, she would stare at the bottles of Lithium, Seroquel, and Risperdal and just get angry. On them she felt unfocused and numb. And one night she flushed the pills down the toilet.

            The last dance she had with York was so different from their first. It was the same in some ways. There was a rush of adrenaline and blood. But it was different in others. And Carolina’s mind was rushing violently with anger and anxiety. York blocked her punches and guarded against kicks. But in the end he was no match for her. And she sent him down the elevator shaft, tossing his lighter for good measure. As Carolina floated through the ship on her way to Texas the last little bit of her died. The last piece of her that was wholly good. Nothing and no one was going to stop her. And then she would finally prove to him that she was the best, willing to do whatever he asked.

            Carolina woke to snow and cold and pain. Eta was screaming at the back of her mind. **_Get up! Get up! He’s coming! You Can’t win!  You’re injured. 79 percent chance of fatal injury._**  Iota was shrinking away in fear robbing her of any feeling. Being lift by her chest plate, Carolina opened her eyes and stared into the face of Maine. There was the glow of Sigma from behind the faceplate. Helmet ripped away, there was searing pain as the AI implants were ripped away. There was silence inside her head. No sounds, no AI crying out and voicing their fears. Nothing. It was actually kind of a beautiful moment. The sun reflected off of the snow and the cold air bit into the skin. Behind Maine, Agent Texas was running fully speed. Every motion screamed of panic. Then there was a flex in Maine’s arm muscle and Tex screamed. There was the sensation of falling. It was peaceful. Death seemed like a fair punishment. Because for the first time in months her head felt clear. But fear is a powerful thing and as she fell, her hand went straight to the grappling hook at her waist.

            Broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and a fractured arm was all the injuries Carolina ended up getting from the fall. The grappling hook had done its job. It didn’t matter none of it did. Carolina used the funds from a private account her mother had left her to pay smugglers to get her off planet. None of them even took a second glance at her. That was good because Carolina felt like dying. Everything she had done had put people she loved in danger. Everything had happened because she had been competitive and stupid enough to believe her father that she was doing the right thing. One of the smugglers stopped and looked her over.

            “You know there are only two people who ask to be smuggled,” He told her, “The kind of people trying to hide from someone and the kind of people trying to run from themselves. And you are injured and have quite the haunted look about you, so I am going to guess it’s the former.” Carolina looked up at him and frowned. The man wasn’t wrong and after their journey they’d never see each other again.

            “I have done horrible things. At the time I thought that the orders were good, that I was doing the right thing. Now the people who gave those orders probably think I’m dead,” Carolina sighed and leaned back against the wall, “So you’re not wrong,” The man shrugged.

            “We all have our ghosts babe,”

Thirty-three

_I'm so sorry._

            Wash looked so much older than she remembered him being. There were small wrinkles around his eyes and there was a frown at his mouth as she watched him from across the room. The simulation troopers had left them to speak and she was overwhelmed by how much time had passed. Just like her there was no softness in his eyes. There was nothing left for him to give. The director and the Chairman, they had robbed him of those same things. Maine, they had taken Maine from Wash too. So much had been taken from them. Their youth, their joy, and the ones they loved. And somehow Wash had been taken in by simulation troopers. All of whom seemed to be as stupid as the last troopers that she’d met. Strangely enough Wash was protective over all of the Blue team members. More so over the one with same color armor as her. It was odd.

            As they traveled, following the trail of the Director Carolina witnessed something truly and utterly amazing. Wash was absolutely taken with the idiot. Tucker was an insufferable womanizer with only a mediocre amount of talent. Not to mention he trampled all over the past that Carolina and Wash shared. It wasn’t that he didn’t care, it was just that he didn’t have the tact to handle the situation properly. Quite frankly Carolina couldn’t see what Wash did until she confronted Tucker. Even though she was a better fighter, even though she was better in every conceivable way Tucker met her head on. Not only that but he was painfully aware of the traumas that haunted Wash. Tucker was aware and put it on Carolina. It hurt because she knew he was right. Begrudgingly Carolina left it alone until she and Wash were checking the rooms of the abandoned building they were staying in. They had Epsilon, who was currently with Tucker.  He told her what made Tucker special and she realized that Wash didn’t just like him…he loved Tucker. And Carolina had lost a soulmate and loved ones, so she knew that this was what Wash needed. She backed off because in this reality maybe just maybe they would get to have the happiness that she never did. And that…that was enough.

Thirty-four

_I’m not alright but maybe, just maybe I’ll get there._

            The canyon was made up of four high walls and endless caves. Epsilon, no Church stood by her shoulder. The Director was gone, brought down in a way that was spectacularly unimpressive. The man left nothing behind but a legacy of pain that no one could trace. No one knew that Charlotte Church was Agent Carolina. That was her father’s one act of love. So if she ever decided to give up her life as a soldier, Charlotte could be whatever she wanted. That’s why she needed to leave. As she looked down over the canyon observing Tucker and Caboose bicker, Wash chiming in to say his piece. Carolina knew that they were healed in their own way. She, well she had just found her starting line. Just like her mother said, Carolina never offered them a goodbye. Charlotte Church might not be the best, but getting better well that was good enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone,  
> I know this story isn't perfect but I adore Carolina so much. There is so much about her that is endearing and heartbreaking. I just had to write about it.
> 
> I always love getting feedback  
> love ya


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